Page 10 of Hard to Love
“Call me Raylene.” She patted his arm. “Or Aunt Raylene, if you want.”
“Raylene, if you’ll just point me to a room, I’ll get out of your hair. I’ve got some work to do for your niece and really need to get on that.”
Shaking her head, she tsked. “You ask me, she’s working a little too hard these days, but I’m happier than a dog in a trashcan full of leftovers that she finally came home.”
Home.Alex wasn’t even sure what that word meant anymore. Montana had never been home. It had been a means to an end, an escape from Texas to make sure no one took out his family. And now he needed to finish his business in Prophecy and get his ass back out of Texas before he was revisited by a very ugly, potentially deadly, part of his past.
“Ladies—” Raylene pitched her voice over the chitchat, “—I’d like to introduce you to Alex Villanueva.”
Four women swiveled their heads in some eerie synchronized movement, giving him once-overs that included one peering over her bifocals, another shoving her glasses on top of her head, one popping open a couple ofshirt buttons, and one fanning herself with a placemat. Only the fifth, a buttoned-up type with brown hair, stared down at her silverware instead.
Raylene made a shooing motion. “Cheryl, you and Lily, y’all scoot out right quick.”
The ladies, a forty-something streaky blond and the silverware inspector, hurried to do as Raylene asked.
“Now, Alex, you just slide right on in there by Lily, and I’ll get you a plate.” The shove in the small of his back left no room for argument, so he stumbled forward.
In that second, he’d rather be facing a switchblade on one side and a .38 on the other, but he swallowed and tried to put on a nonthreatening smile. “Ladies.”
He slid his ass onto the fabric-covered cushion. No sooner was he on the bench than one lady hip-bumped him to scoot to the middle. He pulled his elbows close to his sides. What the hell had he gotten himself into here?
In a flash, Delaney’s aunt was back with a lettuce-covered plate and proceeded to fill it with three heaping spoonfuls. “Today is pimento cheese with pepper jack, tuna salad with Granny Smith apples, and chicken salad with pineapple and almonds.”
Why hadn’t he stopped at that Tex-Mex place just down from Prophecy Boot Company before heading over here? At least that way he would’ve been able to claim lack of hunger with complete honesty.
“So, sugar,” she said, placing the mounded plate in front of him, “tell us a little about you.”
Between this and the meeting at PBC, Alex hadn’t been expected to talk this much in the past two months. And what was it with people’s curiosity about his family? Suddenly, pimento cheese had never looked so damn good. He shoveled in a mouthful and gave an apologetic shrug.
She flashed him a smile and said to the other women, “Delaney says he drove down here all the way from Montana.”
Look-Over-Her-Glasses did just that and squeezed Alex’s biceps. “Sure do grow ’em stout up there in the snow.”
“I could never live in a place that cold,” another woman chimed in. “I heard if you lick a flagpole, your tongue’ll get stuck.”
Raylene’s fork clattered to her plate. “Why on God’s green earth would you ever lick a flagpole?”
“Well, I don’t rightly know. But if that could happen, then all kinds of body-freezin’ things could happen.”
Alex’s balls shriveled a little at the comment. It had definitely taken a couple of years before his blood thickened up to the point where he didn’t want to hibernate all winter. But no way would he get involved in this conversation, so he just kept eating. Pimento cheese was pretty good too.
“Bet his family’s gonna miss him if he stays out this way.” The woman next to him jostled him with her elbow. “What’s your mama think about you traipsing all the way down here looking for work?”
Unfortunately, she caught him when he’d just swallowed. Not answering would be downright rude. “My mamá lives in Georgia.”
“That so?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, then,” another said, “we’ll just have to step in for her while you’re here. Treat you like family.”
God, if they only knew what he’d done to his own family, these women would jump up from this table and run away screaming.
Chapter Four
After everyone at the table took their opportunity to marvel over Greer’s boots, they were able to settle down enough to order lunch. The jalapeño poppers and grilled chicken salad were probably delicious, but her taste buds barely registered the flavors.
This was it. The day she’d been waiting for.
